Fischer, on record as in person an illuminator of this development, captures the feeling straightaway on "Headphones," Open Ground's appropriately insular opening number: "An evening's record listening's like divine communique/What I glean from those times, I can't find another way/I know I don't deserve it anyhow, but for the next few minutes/Let love come easy to me now." The music, mostly by Fischer, with the help of significant other/Rainer Maria mate Caithlin De Marrais, Kinsella and a couple of other Polyvinyl Records homies, is as quaint as the lyrics: lots of stringed instruments doing curlicues around one another and keyboards and pianos providing the warm hum of a fireplace in the background. Kinsella's work on the Owen record, a totally one-man show, is similarly cozy: On "Declaration of Incompetence" he laments through a lovely haze of those curlicues, "I can't do anything/I can't do my hair right/Or have a good time/Or fall asleep with my girl." Sure, it isn't exactly the Beatles investing their love songs with political heft or Public Enemy moving on from battle raps to cultural critique, but there's a movement afoot here, one that may impact young white guys more than you know. Show up and beat Ms. Winfrey to the punch.